


dream beyond dreams

by arabmorgan



Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: "Sometimes Seongwoo watched Minhyun smile as he described some silly thing a colleague had done that day, and he thoughtadorable, and he tried not to let that single word shake him."In which Seongwoo finally gets a halfway decent next-door neighbour, and promptly catches feelings.





	dream beyond dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I literally took 3 months to squeeze this fic out because I got stuck on Minhyun's point of view for like 2.5 months, and then decided to switch to Ong's (which frankly I think is weirder but whatever). What is writing.

Seongwoo had been excited, to say the least, when he’d acquired a new neighbour some months back. While it was true that said neighbour was astoundingly handsome, he also (more importantly) seemed sensible, respectful and perfectly pleasant, all of which struck Seongwoo as exceedingly important traits in a neighbour. After all, his last one had stood outside his apartment and denounced him (and his occupation) at the top of her lungs for twenty minutes straight the day she moved out.

On the other hand, Hwang Minhyun (as he’d introduced himself when Seongwoo had offered a hand with the boxes on moving day) had readily acquiesced to Seongwoo’s enthusiastic attempt at friendship, and showed up to their weekly Saturday lunches without fail.

( _“Before I step into your house, I should probably get this out of the way first.” Seongwoo cleared his throat, arms straining under the weight of one of Minhyun’s cardboard boxes, hoping he wasn’t going to be faced with yet another stuck-up asshole who would probably move out within the week. Not that those assholes moving out had been any great loss._

_Minhyun raised a quizzical, rather preoccupied brow, and Seongwoo allowed his words to come tumbling out, just a simple sentence that left his shoulders feeling impossibly lighter. “I’m an escort,” he said quickly, loudly, his tone just a tad bit belligerent._

_Minhyun blinked, looking startled, although that might have been more of a reaction to the sudden aggression in Seongwoo’s tone than the content of his message, because his only reaction was a hesitant, “Ah. Well, okay. Sure.”_

_Seongwoo’s expression relaxed into a huge grin, and Minhyun’s lips tilted in a small smile back, and that was pretty much that._ )

For all Seongwoo claimed to detest stereotypes, he had to admit that Minhyun wasn’t what he had expected from a Busan boy, not one bit. For one thing, he didn’t have much of an accent at all; for another, he was really better described as  _refined_  instead of  _tough_. Except for his laugh – the one where his ‘ha’s all came out individually and his eyes narrowed into slits of delight, and made Seongwoo want to laugh as well.

Mostly, Minhyun just came across as intermittently shy, depending on how much Seongwoo was able to make him laugh on any given day. He rarely made prolonged eye contact, preferring instead to dart glances over at Seongwoo when either of them were speaking. It didn’t bother Seongwoo though – he’d met too many different kinds of people over the course of his life not to sense that Minhyun genuinely enjoyed spending time with him.

Besides, they’d managed to figure their dynamics out by now. Seongwoo took the lead, made the jokes, and dragged Minhyun to all his favourite places in the city. All Minhyun had to do was tag along, try not to get lost, and tell a couple of stories about his family back in Busan to keep Seongwoo happy.

( _“You’re an accountant?” Seongwoo sputtered, brows furrowing in confusion as he squinted exaggeratedly at Minhyun, whose smile widened into something a little more deviously amused._

_“Do I not look like an accountant?” Minhyun said, with that teasing lilt to his tone that told Seongwoo he already knew the answer. “What can I say? I like putting things in order, even numbers.”_

_Seongwoo leaned back, looking bemused. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”_

_Something odd flickered in Minhyun’s eyes at that (something that didn’t quite fit with the soft sharpness of his features – something mocking, or faintly ironic), before he laughed – but quietly, not the loud, eye-crinkling laugh that Seongwoo enjoyed._ )

Seongwoo would be the first to admit that he had never really been the protective type. He was more likely to cut and run to save his own skin than to watch out for someone else – a side effect of his career path, perhaps, and the constant discrimination that came with it. It was difficult, however, not to be protective of his new neighbour.

After all, it was only Minhyun’s first time in Seoul, his first time away from his family for any extended length of time. “I just wanted to see the world, be a little more independent, you know,” Minhyun had said somewhat sheepishly to him, and Seongwoo had forgotten for a moment that they were both the same age.

It wasn’t so much that Minhyun didn’t seem to have much of a social life – Seongwoo knew that some people were like that, the type to prefer curling up at home with a book or some such – but the  _vibe_  that he gave off sometimes. It was a sort of hunger that surfaced when he looked at Seongwoo, but only when he thought Seongwoo’s attention was elsewhere, like he was desperately lonely and thought that Seongwoo could do something about it.

He had actually considered the possibility that Minhyun was attracted to him (it was rather a nice possibility, in his opinion, because he certainly found Minhyun very attractive), but on a few occasions when they had gone out for a drink together, he had seen Minhyun give passing strangers the exact same look. That sad, hungry, wistful sort of gaze that made Seongwoo uneasy, because he didn’t know what Minhyun was lacking and so could not help to fill it.

( _Nudging Minhyun hard in the shoulder, Seongwoo smirked. “Go over and say hi. Don’t just stare.”_

_Minhyun jumped a little, before shooting Seongwoo a reproving frown. “What?” he said, sounding antsy._

_Seongwoo clapped him on the back. “That girl,” he said patiently, jutting his chin in the direction of the petite woman Minhyun had been eyeing for the past half minute. “She’s cute. Just go say hi.”_

_“What?” Minhyun repeated, but this time his eyes were wide, a stricken deer in the moment before the truck bowled it over. “I can’t do that. Seongwoo – hey, Seongwoo. Hey!”_

_Thankfully, Seongwoo was nothing if not the best wingman in town. It didn’t take much more than an easy, “See my friend over there? He’s too shy to come over and say hi, so I guess it’s up to you,” to get the two of them within three feet of each other._

_The problem, he soon learned, was that Minhyun had no game. None, nada, zilch. He stuttered over his words, missed perfect openings for compliments, and seemed not to know where to place his eyes. It was like watching an awful train wreck, and Seongwoo breathed an actual sigh of relief when the woman got bored of Minhyun’s face and returned to the dancefloor._

_“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Minhyun said reproachfully, dabbing at the beads of nervous sweat that had formed along his hairline. Seongwoo stared at him, still in disbelief, before bursting into laughter._ )

They both had spare keys to each other’s apartment, and more than once Minhyun had let himself into Seongwoo’s home in search of something or other that Seongwoo had borrowed and neglected to return in a timely manner. More than once, too, Minhyun had bumped into one of Seongwoo’s clients, leaving after getting what they had paid for. In those moments, it was always a toss-up between Minhyun or the client being more embarrassed at the unexpected intrusion (usually it was Minhyun, who never failed to blush bright red, all the way to the tips of his ears).

Seongwoo found it undeniably endearing, the way Minhyun could speak quite frankly to him about his occupation, but have his face virtually catch on fire anytime actual evidence of said occupation appeared. Had it been anyone else, it might have been insulting, as if the acceptance of Seongwoo’s lifestyle was nothing more than empty words, but when it came to Minhyun, it was just adorable.

Sometimes he thought about the fact that he thought of Minhyun as  _adorable_ , and tried to remember the last time he had used that adjective on anyone (or even anything) at all.

Seongwoo was always bright (or at least, he made the effort to be), and most people seemed to think that being cheerful translated to being easily affectionate as well, but he wasn’t – he couldn’t  _afford_  to be careless with his emotions. On the other hand, Minhyun’s reticence meant that he occasionally came across as cold, but it would probably be difficult to find someone who distributed his affections more easily than this quiet, unassuming accountant.

Sometimes Seongwoo watched Minhyun smile as he described some silly thing a colleague had done that day, and he thought  _adorable_ , and he tried not to let that single word shake him.

( _“Isn’t it difficult? Your job, I mean,” Minhyun wondered out loud, as casually as if he were speaking of the weather, and Seongwoo coughed loudly as a strand of ramen shot up his nose._

_“Not really,” he said, once he’d managed to recover (his dignity, but also from the momentary choking). “I guess I’m well-known enough to be picky about my clients. It pays well and the sex is decent, so – what’s not to like?” He laughed, casting Minhyun a playful glance._

_Minhyun snorted, albeit a little distractedly. “It’s just – it seems difficult. Attracting people and all that.” He twirled his ramen around his chopsticks, staring at his noodles in a way that could only be constituted as miserable._

_Seongwoo’s expression immediately softened. “Unless you’re intending to join me in the industry, you just have to be yourself. You’re attractive enough as it is, and I don’t just mean your face, you idiot.”_

_“Aw, that’s so sweet, Seongwoo,” Minhyun cooed, his voice light and amused, but that dark, hungry look was back in his eyes, and Seongwoo wished more than ever that he could sweep it away._ )

Seongwoo would have had to be a truly terrible friend not to realise that something fairly major was bothering Minhyun. For a while, he had chalked it down to homesickness, that aching longing for the familiar left behind, but that didn’t quite explain the discomfort that loomed behind Minhyun’s eyes on certain days, the same days he watched Seongwoo with that low, subtle hunger.

It didn’t explain the weight loss either. It had been a gradual thing, so gradual that Seongwoo had been unaware of it until he had taken a good look at Minhyun one day and realised that he had never seen Minhyun’s jawline quite so sharp before. It was deceptive, he realised, the width of Minhyun’s shoulders and that impressive height.

“Everything okay?” he had asked once, on one of his free nights, when they were crashed on Minhyun’s couch flipping idly through channels for something mildly interesting to watch.

Minhyun had laughed, more out of surprise than anything else. “Yeah. Why?”

Seongwoo had shrugged and protested in his own, perhaps slightly whiny way. “Hey, can’t a friend just be concerned? I just wanted to make sure that you’re eating enough and everything.”

That had gotten a reaction out of Minhyun. He had paused, head cocking to the side, and the silence had felt like a  _considering_ silence (the kind that came before the pounce, the attack), before he had shrugged, his voice careless and fond. “You worry too much, silly.”

Seongwoo had been too caught up in protesting his attachment to realise, at the time, how neatly Minhyun had dodged his concerns.

( _“– fine. It’s nice here. I’ve made a couple of friends.”_

_For a moment, Seongwoo thought that Minhyun actually had a friend over, but he was only on the phone, standing in the kitchen and absently wiping his stove. Seongwoo quietly shut the front door behind him and took a seat on the couch, shutting his eyes as he waited for Minhyun to finish his conversation._

_“I am, I am, I’m fine. There’re plenty of bars and clubs here.” Minhyun sounded vaguely flustered, which was interesting, because very little flustered Minhyun. “I don’t know, maybe once every day or two? When I’m hungry, I guess.”_

_Seongwoo cracked an eyelid open curiously. The thought occurred to him that perhaps this was a conversation he shouldn’t be listening to, but it wasn’t like he was intentionally eavesdropping. He was sitting right there on Minhyun’s sofa, for goodness’ sake._

_Minhyun let out a laugh, a soft one, full of fondness and affection, and Seongwoo felt his stomach do a little tumble slightly at the sound. “You should’ve had more faith in me, huh? Yeah, I –”_

_Minhyun’s expression when he turned around and locked eyes with Seongwoo was nothing short of horrified. “I – sorry, I have to go. There’s someone – I…” As if trapped in slow motion, he lowered the phone from his ear with excruciating slowness. “That was my sister,” he said, equally slowly, but Seongwoo could see his chest rising and falling shallowly with a speed contrary to his movements._

_“Sorry, I just got here,” Seongwoo blurted, sitting bolt upright now. “I literally just sat down. I barely heard anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”_

_That was the first time Seongwoo saw fear in Minhyun’s eyes._ )

Truthfully, Seongwoo’s social circle (in terms of actual friends and not mere business acquaintances) wasn’t particularly large either, so it probably wasn’t as odd as it sounded for him to find himself thinking about Minhyun rather often.

Sometimes he wondered what they would make for dinner that night, if it happened to be one of those nights; or if Minhyun had gotten those pesky numbers that he had been complaining about through KakaoTalk sorted out at work; or if he had accidentally left his favourite mug in Minhyun’s apartment again after their late-night movie session.

Minhyun was his best friend. These things happened – like thinking about each other.

The moment Seongwoo caught himself thinking about Minhyun when he was with a client, however, was the moment he realised how very screwed he was. And how very far he had fallen. 

* * *

“I’m heading down to Jeju next week to visit a friend,” Seongwoo said, over one of their weekly Saturday lunches (although in actual fact they met so often that it was uncertain if they still even needed a fixed day to meet on). “I’m counting on you to keep my plants alive, yeah?”

Minhyun looked up abruptly at that, but Seongwoo was still frowning down at the menu, and so he missed the sliver of bright panic that flashed through Minhyun’s eyes. He only heard his friend’s familiar soft laugh, to which he raised his head and grinned back.

“Jeju sounds fun,” Minhyun said, looking impressed. “How long will you be gone?”

“Around three, four days. Gonna miss me?” he murmured, voice lowering into a faux seductive purr.

To his credit, Minhyun managed not to roll his eyes when he said, in the driest tone Seongwoo had ever heard, “How will I ever survive four days without you, Seongwoo?”

“Ass,” Seongwoo grumbled, and Minhyun smiled sweetly back at him.

The four days passed quickly enough, as all vacations unfortunately did, and Seongwoo was somewhat appalled to find himself actually looking forward to getting home, if only because home also meant Minhyun, even if Minhyun would most likely still be at work in the afternoon.

He sent a quick message announcing his triumphant return to his neighbour the moment he set his bag down anyway, wondering (as was becoming a rather unattractive habit of his) what said neighbour was doing at the moment.

As it turned out, the answer was  _rushing straight over to Seongwoo’s house_ , because he had barely began to unpack before he heard a key turning in his lock. He couldn’t help the smile that twitched to life on his face as he waited for Minhyun’s entrance – a smile that faded as soon as he caught sight of the ashen-faced, shaking man who pushed his front door open.

Seongwoo almost tripped over his own bag and faceplanted on the floor in his haste to get to Minhyun’s side – it had only been four  _days_. He didn’t understand how Minhyun looked even thinner than he had before Seongwoo’s departure, but somehow he did, and the blaze in his dark eyes stood out starkly against his pale skin.

“What  _happened_?” Seongwoo demanded, grabbing roughly for Minhyun’s hands. He wasn’t surprised to find them cold, considering Minhyun looked about three steps away from the grave.

Minhyun only stared at him unblinkingly for a long second, his expression a painful mix of terror and resignation. “Would it be weird,” he finally croaked, “if I asked you to sleep with me right now?”

Seongwoo’s only reaction was blank confusion. “Sorry, what?” he said with a shake of his head, convinced that his ears had temporarily malfunctioned.

“Please,” Minhyun said quietly, pressing forward until his lips touched Seongwoo’s – lightly, like he was trying not to spook an already-spooked bird.

The door behind Minhyun was still open, but Seongwoo inhaled, and parted his lips, and let his eyes slide shut anyway. He wondered whether or not it mattered if he understood anything. He wondered if this was a dream.

In the end, it was Seongwoo who managed to manoeuvre them both into his bedroom, past his half-open suitcase and his thriving plants. For all of Minhyun’s insistence, he seemed content to follow Seongwoo’s lead, only letting out needy little moans whenever Seongwoo made to pull away.

It was only as Seongwoo was pushing slowly into Minhyun, his breaths coming in deep pants, grip tight on hot skin, that he heard Minhyun whine something that sounded oddly like, “Please, please, I’m  _hungry_ ,” into Seongwoo’s pillow. Minhyun was facedown, his voice muffled against the fabric, but the words sent a shiver up Seongwoo’s spine anyway.

None of this made any  _sense_  – but really, neither of them were up for stopping at this point.

Minhyun let out a feral-sounding hiss when he came, his body pliant against Seongwoo’s steady thrusts, but it was only when Seongwoo orgasmed that he cried out, a sound of such raw, exquisite relief that Seongwoo’s heart did a painful lurch.

(He had definitely caught feelings.)

It felt like the most natural thing in the world to curl up together after that, Minhyun playing absently with Seongwoo’s hands, lacing and unlacing his own fingers with Seongwoo’s like there was nothing that could possibly be more fascinating. He looked better, Seongwoo couldn’t help noticing,  _healthier_ , his cheeks flushed a sweet pink and somehow, impossibly, less gaunt-looking than before.

He still didn’t understand.

Minhyun’s gaze flickered up to Seongwoo’s face for a bare second, and then back down again. The line of his shoulders stiffened, and Seongwoo’s heart ached for him. He squeezed Minhyun’s hands lightly, and watched his lashes flutter with uncertainty.

“Incubi,” Minhyun said at last, the word flowing out in a soft breath before it could be taken back. “We feed on sexual energy. When humans – climax. That’s why we tend to live in family groups, so that there’s always enough energy going around that incubi who don’t like to sleep around don’t have to.” He inhaled sharply, nervously, and Seongwoo tightened his grip just before Minhyun could pull his hands free.

“You were my first – today, I swear. I’ve never – I was just so  _hungry_.”

Abruptly, Seongwoo pulled Minhyun closer, resting his chin on Minhyun’s hair as he felt the shudder of frightened breaths beneath taut skin. “It’s alright, it’s fine,” he hummed. “I could be your hundred and seventh and I wouldn’t care. I like you that much, Hwang Minhyun.” It was supposed to sound like a joke, but it also wasn't really a joke.

Minhyun stilled, exhalations puffing long and hot against Seongwoo’s chest until he slowly rolled over and away. “Every time you had a client over, I would sit right there,” he murmured, one hand still holding tight to Seongwoo’s as he pointed with the other, at the wall that bordered his own apartment. “I would just sit, and wait for you both to come. I’ve always had trouble looking you in the eye, did you realise? You’ve literally been keeping me alive for months by having sex.”

Seongwoo stared at him. “You’re an idiot,” he said, and that finally earned a huff of indignation from Minhyun, who turned back with the beginnings of a subtle pout on his lips. “What if I’d been gone longer than four days?”

Without waiting for a reply, Seongwoo propped himself up on one elbow and shifted nearer to Minhyun before collapsing bodily onto him, cheerfully ignoring his half-hearted protests. “This is so weird. Are you really an incubus?” he demanded, lips quirking playfully.

Minhyun smiled, a barely-there smile that shone in his eyes anyway. “One who can’t flirt to save his own life, literally.”

Seongwoo inched forward on Minhyun’s chest, until they were all but nose-to-nose. “You got  _me_ , though,” he purred, before affecting his best seductive tone as his fingers inched conspicuously downwards. “And I really want to know how hungry you still are.”

Instead of an answer, all he got was Minhyun blinking slowly up at him, before sighing, “I like you. I like you so much, Ong Seongwoo.”

It was a better answer than the one he had hoped for.

.

.

.

.

.

.

( _A Minhyun bonus, from an early draft_ :

There were definite upsides to living alone, as most people soon discovered once they moved out – with the foremost being the freedom to do whatever the hell you wanted in your own home.

Right at this moment, Hwang Minhyun was sitting with his back to the wall separating him from his neighbour’s bedroom, listening to said neighbour bring his partner to a very loud, very embarrassing (for Minhyun, although probably not for the lady in question) climax. He sighed, letting out a little shudder of his own.

Admittedly, it all sounded massively dubious, but Minhyun would _swear_ on his honour that he wasn’t some sort of voyeuristic pervert. He was just trying to keep from starving to death in his own home because he was a disgrace to his own species, thank you very much.

There was a reason, after all, that the typical incubus was known to be sly, seductive, and most importantly, _shameless_.

Incubi who _didn’t_ possess the above traits often starved to a miserable, painful death (such as the one Minhyun was in danger of). Even in the demon world, natural selection ruled supreme.

Shy, retiring incubi who couldn’t find it in themselves to put themselves out there and seduce the hell out of pretty much every attractive human they saw rarely reached sexual maturity, and thus missed out on the opportunity to pass their (probably unhelpful) genes on to the next generation.

And yet, incubi like Hwang Minhyun continued to exist.

“It’s really not that hard, darling,” was what his mother had said a few weeks before he had moved out. “We’ve found you a nice apartment next to a very popular escort. I’m sure you’ll learn some of his tips and tricks in no time.”

Minhyun could only smile weakly. “I’m sure,” he agreed, with an air of supreme uncertainty that his mother chose to ignore.

Maybe his mother had understood him better than he’d thought after all. Where else in the city would he be able to live off the sheer number of orgasms happening in his neighbour’s apartment on an almost-daily basis? Kind of like a ‘if my son can’t transform himself into a passable excuse of an incubus, at least he won’t starve to death overnight’ sort of back-up plan.)

**Author's Note:**

> Not fully satisfied with this tbh, but A++ prompt nevertheless. I only wish I could've done it justice OTL
>
>> minhyun is a shy, virginal incubus who has no idea how to go about seducing anyone. their next-door neighbor, seongwoo, is a sex worker of some sort. minhyun is desperately attracted to them and feeds secondhand off of seongwoo's sexual energy to keep from starving. then seongwoo finds out.


End file.
